Harry Potter's Home for the Wayward Witch or Wizard
by Spirit of the Night Owl
Summary: It's simple really. Harry Potter has opened his doors to any and all who need a place to stay and, down on his luck, Draco Malfoy appears. Please note that I don't really know where this is going, but that I'm shooting for Drarry.
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter's Home for the Wayward Witch or Wizard...and the occasional Muggle who's in the know!**

**-oOo-**

**Author's Note. **I have absolutely _no_ business starting yet another fic when I have _soooo_ many "in progress" fics (mostly under the name Sheri Contrary), but...well...this one has been banging around in my brain for a bit, so I'm going to _try_ to get it out there. I hope you can forgive me (in advance) for my crazy ideas.

**Synopsis**. It's simple really. Harry Potter has opened his doors to any and all who need a place to stay and, down on his luck, Draco Malfoy appears.

**Warning**. Rated M for mature themes and language. Talk of prostitution and violence (rape), but not actually "seen." Snarking and snapping by our two lovely boys...with an eventual love match. Or so I hope. We'll see what happens, yeah?

**Grimmauld Place**. I've sort of taken what we've _seen_ in the movies and intermingled it with what's described in the books (which I found in a more condensed, easier to understand, document...The Harry Potter Lexicon (online) and Harry Potter Wiki (online). I'm a HUGE user of these two sites to garner facts from the books without actually having to go searching the books. So, while I don't think Grimmauld Place is as large as I've made it, that's just too damned bad. Further, I've draw out the entire floor plan, as it appears in my story, and would be happy to send it to anyone who's interested. How, IDK, since I'm not sure we can trade email addies. *sigh*

**Cover Photo. **Found online. Book cover art, I believe, but I'm not 100% sure.

**-oOo-**

**Chapter One**

**-oOo-**

Things had been quite shitty for Draco Malfoy since the war. He and his father were immediately arrested and his mother was ordered to go home and remain there until further notice. Draco was lucky though; he only spent three months locked up, but Lucius Malfoy would not see the light of day for quite some time.

For Narcissa Malfoy, further notice turned out to be thirty days, by which time she was ordered to vacate Malfoy Manor, as it—and most everything in it—was due to be sold, the proceeds going to various charities after the Ministry confiscated a chunk of it to pay for Lucius Malfoy's incarceration. Narcissa was, however, allowed to remove certain items to keep for herself and her son. All things she'd brought into her marriage—including her own account at Gringotts—as well as gifts she had received over the years, were hers to take. She was also given permission to take everything that was in her son's suite of rooms, as none of it—mostly clothing and childhood keepsakes—seemed to be of interest to the Ministry. Draco's things, she placed in her vault at Gringotts, then she took her own belongings and left the country, not even to return when her son was released.

After Draco's release, he visited his mother's vault to see what was there, but quickly realized she'd not left him much. Apparently she hadn't been allowed. This was explained in a short letter; she'd been forbidden from giving him any money as long as he stayed in the country. She also let him know where she'd gone—to France to stay with a cousin, Maximilian Le Noire, whom she'd never once mentioned in Draco's eighteen years. She'd invited her son to join her there, but he'd never liked France much, so decided instead to stay in England.

But staying wasn't as easy as one might think. Without the Galleons he was accustomed to living on, he didn't know what to do with himself. For a short time he was able to live off selling the things his mother had saved for him, but quickly those things were gone and he was looking at homelessness.

And so he turned to the Greengrasses. Draco'd known from an early age that he was betrothed to the younger Greengrass daughter, but hadn't wanted to marry her—and that was because he'd _also_ known from an early age that he was gay. But now was no time to be picky; he was in need and they were _loaded_.

But things didn't work out there either. His owl was returned with a curt response: _I will __**not**__ have my daughter marry the likes of __**you**__, Malfoy_!

And then Draco ran into an old friend; Pansy Parkinson.

But Pansy wasn't in very good shape either. Her parents hadn't been involved in the war, but they'd somehow managed to lose everything as well and she'd had to resort to staying with friends—until her welcome had worn off. And when that happened, she'd turned to scavenging—as well as other things—to live, because no one seemed willing to help her.

"I don't want you doing that, Pansy," Draco said, objecting to what the woman was talking about doing—yet _again_.

"We need to eat, Draco," she said simply, sighing. "It's not the first time, you know, and...if you recall, I'm good at enticing." She winked at him and jiggled her...assets.

But Draco only frowned. "Let me do it then," he offered. He too was good at this. Usually.

She smiled sadly. "You need to rest, Draco. That cold you have is nasty."

As if her words reminded him, Draco wheezed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as a racking cough tore through him. When he could speak again, he said, "I'm coming with you then. For protection."

Pansy shook her head. "Last time no one would take me with you there. Plus, you look dreadful; it's a turn off, darling."

Draco frowned. The last time she'd gone alone, she'd come back with bruises. "I don't like this."

Pansy shrugged. "Neither do I, but...I'll be fine, love," she said, trying to reassure him. "Then we can get a room somewhere. And a meal."

"We need to find jobs..._real_ ones."

She nodded. "Yes, but no one will hire us...especially with us looking like street urchins."

At her words, Draco's eyes filled with tears; he'd never, in his wildest _nightmares_, thought he'd end up like this. "What are we going to do, Pansy?" he rasped with obvious desperation.

"Don't know," the dark-haired woman said with a shrug as she tried to straighten herself up. Then she knelt down and pulled the tattered old blanket up to Draco's chin. "Right now, I can only think about...right now."

Draco sighed—then ducked his mouth beneath the blanket and coughed again.

"Just rest, Draco," she said, stroking his sweaty brow. "I'll be back in a couple hours, then we'll have some money."

Pursing his lips, the blond nodded—but once she was gone he began to sob.

**-oOo-**

Harry Potter wasn't completely sure how it all got started, all he knew was that Grimmauld Place was no longer cold, empty, and lonely. Instead, it was a house _full_ of activity, nearly bursting at the seams, and...oddly enough, he _liked_ it that way.

After the war he took in a few friends, then a few more—then strangers started showing up on his doorstep, having heard he'd open his doors to those in need and needing a place to stay. On some nights, it very much seemed like the Knight Bus made regular stops there, but it was _great_!

And so he'd done some remodeling. Well, more like became a master at creating wizard space—but he also worked at cleaning things up. All the strange creatures living in the house had been eradicated, making each room livable for humans. Then the walls were painted and/or repapered and the floors were either resurfaced or new carpets were installed. It was quite lovely now.

And so Grimmauld Place became _Harry Potter's Home for the Wayward Witch or Wizard_—and the occasional Muggle who's in the know! That last part was added when first, a wizard, his Muggle wife, and their two young children turned up on Harry's doorstep, claiming they'd lost everything and needed a place to stay and, second, with the arrival Petunia and Dudley Dursley.

Well, Harry's aunt and cousin hadn't _turned up_ on his doorstep. The truth was that Harry'd received an owl from the Ministry, notifying him that his relatives were in need and, being the person that he was, he couldn't leave them stranded—despite the hell they'd put him through while he was growing up. Apparently his aunt's husband—Harry _refused_ to call the bastard his uncle—had abandoned his wife and son when they expressed the desire to look for Harry and make sure he was okay. Good _fucking_ riddance, Vernon Dursley!

And so Harry'd gone to the crap place his aunt and cousin had been staying in and rescued them, bringing them to his now quite crowded abode and giving them a room on the first floor—the room across from the drawing room and down the hall from the two rooms that housed the wizard and his wife and children.

Beneath the first floor was the ground floor, where the main entrance to Grimmauld Place could be found. Upon entering the house, one could hang up his/her outer clothing in the cloak room, then enter the various rooms on that floor. On the right was a good-sized parlor, where some of the ladies liked to gather for tea, and then a smaller room that had once been a sitting room, but now housed a billiard table. On the left was the tapestry room, with a fully-restored _Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_ tapestry. And at the back, the main dining room. There were also a few sets of stairs; two leading up and into the rest of the house and one leading down to the basement.

The basement had several rooms as well, most notably a massive eat-in kitchen. But there was also a wine cellar, a large laundry area, two half bathrooms, a fully-stocked potions lab, and extensive storage areas. And, of course, Kreacher's den.

Moving up to the second floor, at one end of the house, Dennis Creevey and Nigel Wolpert shared a room, while Luna Lovegood roomed with a Hufflepuff girl—a girl whose name Harry always had trouble remembering. And at the other end there was the library and an empty bedroom with two single beds.

The third floor of Grimmauld Place had mostly become Andromeda's space. There the woman lived with her grandson, Teddy. It was also there that the woman stayed much of the time. Oh, and Harry's personal office/study and a small library.

The fourth floor was Harry's. He stayed in Sirius' old room and kept Regulus' room open to friends who wanted to visit, but not live in the house. Most of the time it was Ron and Hermione who used that room, but occasionally others.

It was the fifth floor that saw more changes than the rest of the house though. It had once been the attic, but Harry'd gutted it and turned it into more bedrooms—six of them. These were five single-bedded rooms, now belonging to Theo Nott, Katie Bell, George Weasley, Flora Carrow, and Alannis Sheppley, and a double room that was currently empty.

It was pretty much a full house! And everyone was currently in the dining room having their evening meal.

And so, when there was loud _CLANG_ at the front door, announcing to the entire household that someone was there, it was anyone's guess who might be the one to open the door.

"Teddy! Come back," Andromeda called out—to no avail.

**-oOo-**

Hefting Pansy up again and repositioning her—because she was quite a bit heavier than she appeared—Draco reached out and grabbed onto the silver, serpent-shaped knocker and banged it hard three times.

"Hold on, Pans," he whispered, frowning down at his unconscious friend. She'd gone out, hoping to make a little money, only to not return. After a couple hours without hearing from her, Draco had dragged his sick arse up to go looking for his friend. He'd found her lying in an alley, bruised and bloody.

"Oh, come _on_, Potter!" he growled in frustration—just as the door swung open to reveal a blue-haired boy.

"_Hi_ya!" the boy said excitedly—a huge grin on his face—before being scooped up and tossed over someone's shoulder, the someone scolding him.

"Teddy, you know better than to open the door without permission," the man said, giving the boy's rear end a playful swat—which elicited a giggled "_Put me _down_, Harry_"—before he looked up. "Er..._Malfoy_?"

"Potter. Sorry to interrupt, but...I have an emergency here," Draco said, nodding at what he was holding. "Can you help me?"

Frowning, Harry stared for a moment, then gave a stiff nod, then took a step backward and gestured for the blond to enter. Putting the boy down—Teddy, apparently—Potter knelt and took hold of the child's upper arms. "Go get Beth...and Aunt Petunia. Got that?" he asked before releasing the boy.

The boy's head bobbed, then he turned and ran down the hall and through a doorway.

"What's going on, Malfoy?" Potter asked, turning back to him once the boy was gone. "How'd you know where I live?"

Draco once again shifted—to get a better grip on Pansy—then sighed. "Could we talk about that later? I'm sort of busy here."

Frowning, the dark-haired man nodded. "Right. Who do you have there and what happened?"

"It's Pansy. She's been beaten up and..." his voice hitched, "I don't know what else."

"Harry? What's going on?" came the voice of a small woman with short-ish dark hair. Behind her was another woman, taller and blonde, and looking frightened by his appearance. And behind the blonde woman was yet another woman; she was holding the blue-haired boy and...looked _very_ much like his insane aunt—Bellatrix Lestrange, who was _supposed to be_ dead.

"Um. This is...someone I went to Hogwarts with, Beth," answered Potter. "Both of them are. Mal...er...Draco says Pansy is hurt."

"Oh. The room on the second floor?" the woman—Beth—suggested.

Potter nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. The only other available room isn't very big and...it's too far up."

Beth nodded. "Petunia and I will go down to the kitchen to get what we need," she said, then turned to the third woman standing there listening. "And, would you mind calling Saint Mungos...let Benji know I may need some help here?" That woman—the one who looked like Bellatrix Lestrange—nodded, then walked away. "Why don't you take them up, Harry. We'll be up as soon as possible."

Frowning, Potter sighed, then started up the stairs. "This way, Malfoy. Come on," he said as he went, saying nothing the rest of the way up. On the first floor landing, they crossed a hall and started up another staircase—not the same one—then, stopping on the second floor, Potter opened a door and motioned for Draco to enter. Draco immediately went to the closest bed and lowered Pansy to it, then went about loosening his coat and removing it before dropping it, and then himself, into the chair that sat beside the bed—then proceeded to cough. After which he lowered his head to his hands.

"You okay, Malfoy?" Potter asked him.

Without looking up, Draco snorted. "Do I _look_ all right, Potter?"

Potter harrumphed, but moved on.

"Sorry about the single beds," the dark-haired man said, still standing in the doorway. "I suppose we could transfigure them into a double if you'd prefer."

Draco frowned with confusion, then looked up. "Pansy and I aren't..._a couple_."

"Oh. Sorry. I just...assumed."

Draco scoffed, fully intending a cutting retort about idiotic people and assumptions, then he halted himself and dropped his head back into it hands.

And then in walked the two women who'd been downstairs in the foyer. Quickly, they removed Pansy's coat, then started taking off the rest of her clothing, so that they could examine her. And bathe her, Draco hoped.

"Um. I'll just...step outside," Potter mumbled, then disappeared.

There was blood everywhere, which was being gently wiped away by the one Potter had called Petunia while the other—apparently Beth—did the examining.

"We'll have to replace these," the blonde woman said, eyeing Pansy's horribly filthy clothing, obviously repulsed.

The dark-haired woman shook her head. "No, I'm sure someone can get the blood out," she said as she continued to examine Pansy's prone figure.

The blonde woman's face pinched with disgust, but she piled Pansy's bloody clothing on a towel, then wrapped them up. _Petunia_, Draco reminded himself.

"It appears she's been violated," the woman called Beth said, her voice hushed, causing Draco to let out a hiss of anger; just because they'd been...prostituting themselves out to make money, it didn't give someone the right to force himself upon her.

"Why aren't you healing her?" he asked, frustrated.

"Because we're not witches, dear," Beth said. "But don't you worry, her wounds appear to be superficial. Physically, she'll recover."

Draco frowned. _Muggles? What the _fuck_ is going on here?!_ Nodding, Draco turned and walked out into the hallway.

"_Potter_!" he hissed, closing the door, then swinging around to face his school rival—but then he halted; his aunt Bella look-a-like was coming up the stairs, nearly making him panic.

"Everything all right, Harry?" the woman asked, her eyes going between the two men.

"Um. I was just going to ask Malfoy," said Potter, causing the woman's eyes to turn on him.

Frowning, Draco looked at her in horror.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I sometimes forget how much I look like her," she said. "I'm not Bellatrix, Draco. I'm your other aunt. Andromeda. I suppose your mother didn't mention me all that often."

Draco shook his head. "Ahh. No. Not so much," he said, trying hard to not show his discomfiture.

His Aunt Andromeda laughed. It was a nice sound, quite _unlike_ his aunt Bella's crazed cackle had been.

"It's nice to meet you, Draco," she said, holding out a delicate hand to him.

Nodding, he took her hand. "Likewise."

"I'm just sorry it's under such poor circumstances," his aunt said. "How's your girlfriend?"

"Friend. Pansy's just a friend," he corrected. "And...I don't know." Then turning, he glared at Harry Potter. "Can you tell me why there are _Muggles_ in that room tending to Pansy?"

Potter rolled his eyes. "You haven't changed a bit, have you, Malfoy?!" the dark-haired man snapped. "I'll have you know that Elizabeth Ellsworth is a _fine_ nurse. Parkinson couldn't _be_ in better hands."

Draco scoffed. "Oh, well, I think maybe she _could_ be. We could, you know, call a witch or wizard with some, you know, _healing_ abilities, and not have some random _Muggle_ in there with Pansy!"

"First, I think you would have _called_ a 'witch or wizard' instead of coming _here_ if that were an option for you and...second, Beth's not some _random_ Muggle," growled Potter. "She's—"

"And why _exactly_ do you have Muggles in your house anyway?" Draco interrupted. "They _clearly_ know about magic. Does the Ministry know you've broken the secrecy statute?"

"Yes, actually, the Ministry _does_ know. And...we haven't...not really. Beth is married to a wizard and Petunia is...my aunt, so...maybe you could just stop running your mouth!"

Opening his mouth to retort, Draco was halted by a not-so-subtle clearing of a throat.

"All right, boys. I can see there's a little tension between the two of you. I've heard about this...this thing you two do, but I didn't realize it was so..._brutal_. Anyway, this isn't the time," Andromeda said, waving her hands as if physically trying to stop their bickering. "Harry, darling, I'll handle this if you'd like to return to the dinner table. Maybe you could bring the others up to speed on our new houseguests?"

Still frowning, Potter nodded, flashed him another glare, then turned and started down the stairs.

"And Draco," the woman continued, "you're going to have to get over your aversion to Muggles if you're going to stay here. _No_!" she said when he opened his mouth to argue. "There'll be no protests about it. This is Harry's house and he's been willing to help anyone who happens by. And I mean _anyone_. You're lucky, you know...I've heard about the strife between you two. Not exaggerated _at all_, is it?"

Draco frowned, then shook his head. "No. We pretty much hated each other in school."

"Hmm. Well, let me just tell you this. Harry doesn't _hate_ anyone, so you need to let go of the past, young man. Can you do that?"

Swallowing, Draco nodded. He would certainly have to try. "Yes, ma'am."

With a smile, Andromeda reached out and pulled Draco into her arms, but quickly released him. "I'm so glad, dear, but...there'll be no calling me _ma'am_," she said. "I'm your aunt and I'd like that title to be used."

"I can definitely do that, Aunt 'dromeda," Draco readily agreed—and it felt nice...knowing he had a loving relative.

"_Ahh_. That sounds nice," she said, as if reading his mind. "It is, after all, the first time ever that anyone's called me aunt."

Draco smiled.

"Now, your friend Pansy _is_ in good hands, so please relax," Andromeda said. "And, you look like you could use a shower and a meal."

Draco nodded. "You have _no_ idea."

"So, why don't you go in and shower, then come down to the dining room. It's on the ground floor at the opposite end of the hall to the front door."

"Oh. I don't have a change of clothes," Draco protested, rubbing his face exhaustedly—then he made an embarrassing admission. "And I...I don't have my wand, so I can't Scourgify what I'm wearing."

Andromeda pursed her lips. "Not to worry, dear," she said, patting his chest. "Just go in and shower and I'll make sure you have something clean to put on when you're finished."

Draco nodded. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. That's what family is for. Now, go on."


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry Potter's Home for the Wayward Witch or Wizard...and the occasional Muggle who's in the know!**

**-oOo-**

Here's the next bit...

**-oOo-**

**Chapter Two**

**-oOo-**

By the time Draco had finished showering, the two women taking care of Pansy had vacated the room—much to Draco's relief. He didn't like it—_at all_—that Muggles had seen to his friend, but...what choice did he have at this juncture?

Towel wrapped around his slender waist—well, _skinny_, really—Draco stepped out of the bathroom and walked to the bed next to Pansy's. His clothing had been laid there, freshly cleaned and neatly folded—with a note on them instructing him to take the healing potions that were sitting in phials on the bedside table.

After reading the note, Draco glanced at the potions—which looked perfectly normal—then quickly took them and _instantly_ felt better. It was _such_ a relief to feel, not just better or normal, but..._good_. After that he put on his clothing, glad to be back in something clean. Sadly, it had been a while.

His next thought was Pansy. Sitting on the side of her bed, he reached out and ran his fingers over her face. She was still unconscious, but she too looked clean and at peace. And her facial bruising seemed to be gone. Thankful for that too, he leaned in and placed a light kiss on her forehead, then got up and left the room.

**-oOo-**

"_Merlin_, Andromeda, it's not like I won't let him stay. You know me better than that," Harry said. "I'm just saying that I don't trust him."

"I understand that, Harry...you and Draco have quite a history, or so I'm told. But, my nephew has been through a lot," the older woman said. "Can you imagine being raised by Lucius Malfoy?"

Harry snorted. "He's not the only one who had things tough growing up, you know," he said—then glanced over at his aunt; her head was bent down in shame. "I...ahh...I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia."

The blonde woman's lips thinned, then she looked up from her plate and at her nephew. "It's quite all right, Harry. I know the mistakes I made hurt you. All I can say now is that _I'm_ sorry."

Harry sighed. "I know. Still." Then he looked at Andromeda—then at the rest of those sitting at the table listening. Part of everyone living under one roof was that they all knew about each other's pasts. "Okay. So, like I told you, we have two additions to the household. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. And we're all going to be nice. _All_ of us."

Most nodded. Harry didn't often put his foot down, but when he did...

"So...now we have two _more_ snakes," George Weasley said quietly, not looking at those he was talking to. "Brilliant."

Dennis Creevey grinned. "We already had three, George...what's two more?"

"Four," Andromeda corrected with a smile. "We had _four_ former Slytherin students prior to adding my nephew Draco and Miss Parkinson."

"That's right, _you_ were one too," said Dennis, nodding. "I seem to excel at forgetting that."

George glanced up at Andromeda, then frowned—then looked over at the doorway, where Draco Malfoy was now standing. At first the blond man didn't say anything, but he was quickly noticed by Teddy.

"_Draco_!" the boy called out exuberantly. "You should come sit next to me. I'm your cousin, you know?"

"First cousin once removed, actually," Andromeda corrected, "but whatever, right?"

Smiling tentatively at his aunt, Draco glanced at his cousin and the empty chair next to the boy, then started forward. Sitting, he pulled his cloth napkin from the table to his lap and looked at the vast array of food on the table—it resembled Hogwarts!—then brought his eyes up to meet Harry's, who, strangely enough, wasn't seated at the head of the table despite this being _his_ house. In fact, no one was at either end of the table.

"Thank you, Potter, for allowing Pansy and me to come into your home," he said formally. "It is very kind of you."

Harry eyed him, then nodded. "Just try to get along with everyone, Malfoy," the dark-haired man said as he lifted a glass of what appeared to be Firewhisky to his mouth. "Would you care for a drink with your meal?"

"Um. Yes, thank you," the blond responded politely. "I'd prefer wine if it's available."

"Of course," Harry said, his eyes going to the door. "Debby, would you mind bringing in a few more bottles of wine? Um. How about a Chardonnay, a Merlot, and that Moscato that my aunt likes so much," he said, his eyes going to Petunia, who looked up and smiled.

Nodding vigorously, a house-elf in a blue gingham dress popped out of the room, but quickly reappeared with three bottles of wine.

"Debby has brought you the wine, Mr. Potter, sir," she said, then looked at Draco. "Which would you like, sir?"

Taken slightly aback—because he was surprised to find out Potter had a house-elf—Draco just stared for a moment. Then, recovering, he answered. "The Merlot would be nice. Thank you," he added, once the blue-clad house-elf had finished.

_Clearly, Potter didn't _own_ the prettily dressed creature._

"It's nice to see your manners have improved," said Harry once the elf had gone.

Draco snorted. "Yours haven't though, I see," the blond said, nodding at Potter's elbows...which were on the table.

Frowning, Harry sat back in his chair and glared at his new houseguest. He was just about to speak—throw out some scathing remark—when a throat cleared.

"So, Draco...how is Pansy doing?" Theodore Nott asked from several seats down.

Draco blinked, surprised; he'd not noticed his old dormmate sitting at the table. "I am told that she'll recover," he said, nodding his head at the two women who'd helped with Pansy. "Thank you both kindly."

Petunia nodded, but didn't respond otherwise—but Beth did. "You are quite welcome, dear. My husband works at St. Mungos; he'll visit her when he returns home later on. Apparently it was busy there today and he couldn't rush home when we owled him. But Pansy will be fine, I promise you. She's resting peacefully."

Draco nodded, then took a bite of his food. "My compliments to the chef," he said. There was _no way_ the house-elf had prepared this meal he'd decided after several bites. House-elf cooking was decent enough, but always seemed to taste the same. To him anyway.

"Why, thank you," Harry said with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling.

"_You_ cooked this?" Draco asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Yep."

"We all take turns in the kitchen, Draco," Andromeda informed her nephew. "That way no one is stuck cooking for so many every day."

"Yeah, but Harry's the best," Teddy announced, causing everyone to laugh. Most of the people living in Harry's house were pure-bloods and it seemed like most pure-bloods had servants and/or house-elves—meaning, they didn't do much cooking for themselves...or others.

"Harry's had a lot of practice though," a man with darkish blond hair added, smiling at the blue-haired boy—then frowning when he noticed Harry's aunt's blush.

Quickly swallowing what was in his mouth, Harry spoke to cover his aunt's obvious discomfiture. "Malfoy, this is my cousin, Dudley. Dudley, this is Draco Malfoy," he introduced. "A classmate of ours."

Dudley gave a small wave and Draco nodded politely.

"We'll slip you into the schedule at the end of next week, Malfoy," Harry went on. "But you should probably come down to the kitchen before that to get acclimated, yeah?"

Draco frowned. He had zero experience or knowledge in the ways of kitchens and cooking. "All right," he answered—trying to hide his nervousness.

"You'll learn fast, darling," Andromeda said encouragingly, then took a sip of wine.

Dudley nodded. "True that. I cook a pretty mean meal, if I do say so myself," he said. "Thanks to Harry."

Everyone nodded.

Draco's eyes went around the table, then settled on Theo. "Potter has you cooking as well."

Theo laughed. "I'm not half bad, if I do say so myself."

"Hmm."

**-oOo-**

After their meal, everyone at the table dispersed, leaving the clean-up to the house-elves—apparently Potter had several of them working for him. _Who knew_!—and went upstairs to the drawing room. Draco was informed that dessert would be served there, but he decided he'd like to retire instead; it had been a long and trying day and all he _really_ wanted to do was to check on Pansy, then crawl into a warm, dry, and _clean_ bed and sleep for about a week. Maybe even a month. And so he went upstairs to the room he was sharing with his friend.

But when he arrived at his assigned room there was already someone else there.

Standing in the doorway for a second, Draco frowned at the man with graying hair who was sitting on the side of Pansy's bed—then cleared his throat to get the man's attention.

Looking up, the man smiled. He was a kind-looking gentleman who appeared to be in his late forties, possibly early fifties.

"Hello there, young man," the man said. "I'm Benjamin Ellsworth, the resident Healer at Harry's House."

Closing the door quietly, Draco slowly approached. "Hello," he said, then nodded at Pansy. "How is she?"

The older man sighed. "She will survive, but...I don't recommend any sexual activity for the time being," he said pointedly.

Draco frowned. "Pansy and I are...just friends, Healer Ellsworth, so there will be no..._activity_."

The older man smiled. "Oh. Well, that's good. And please, call me Benjamin or Ben...we're all family here at Harry's place."

Draco nodded. "Thank you...for helping my friend."

"It's my job, son."

Draco attempted a smile—a tiny one—as he dropped into the chair next to Pansy's bed and studied the man hovering over her.

"Now, my wife, Beth, told me you were ill as well," the man continued. "You took the potions that were left for you though, yes?"

Draco nodded again. "Yes, sir...Benjamin, I did."

"How long had you been ill?"

Draco shrugged. "About a week. I think."

"And how long were you two living on the streets?"

Draco bit his lip. He didn't want to say, but...was it _that_ obvious that he and Pansy were homeless? They'd _tried_ to stay clean.

"Don't be embarrassed, son, you're not the only ones who've fallen on hard times," the Healer said. "My wife and I lost everything in the war as well."

"Bet you didn't deserve it though," Draco whispered.

"Well no," Ben said quietly, "but...well, who actually _deserves_ it?"

Draco frowned. "Do you know who I am?"

The Healer smiled sadly. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I _do_," he said. "And, despite everything, I don't think you deserve what the Ministry has done to you and your family. Well, possibly your father deserved what he got, but not you and your mother."

Shocked, all Draco could do was stare.

"Now, how long have you and your friend been homeless?"

Rubbing a hand over his face, Draco sighed. "I'm not really sure. It's been a while," he answered. "When we could scrounge up the money we stayed in various places; twice at the Leaky. That's why Pansy was out..._doing what she was_," he said, whispering the last bit. "Because I was sick, she wanted to get me a warm place for the night...and a hot meal." His eyes went to his unconscious friend, then filled with tears—which he tried to hide by turning his face away. "I shouldn't have let her. I should have—"

"Now, now, what's done is done, son. You're both here and safe now, so..." The older man shrugged. "So, there will be no more of _that_...for either of you," he went on, referring to Pansy's activities and making it known that he was aware that Draco had been doing it too. "Tomorrow I would like to examine you as well...to make sure you haven't picked up anything."

Draco blushed.

"Muggle illnesses can be particularly nasty on witches and wizards if not treated properly," he said. "We don't seem to have the same immunities as they do...mostly because we keep ourselves separated. And vice versa."

Draco frowned. "But...there are Muggles living here. Are we in danger?" he asked with obvious worry.

Benjamin shook his head. "No, son, we're safe. As are they," he said. "Now. Tonight, I'd like you to rest."

Draco nodded. "I _am_ exhausted."

"I'm not surprised. The potions healed the cold you had, but the elements have worn you down. I'd like you to stay in bed as much as possible tomorrow. I'll come see you both around ten, then I'll have to go to work, but Beth will check on you periodically. She's a great caregiver. And I promise you, you have nothing to worry about...her being a Muggle and all." He winked.

Draco nodded again and tried to smile.

"I mean it. Other than using the toilet, you are to stay in bed!" the Healer demanded, standing. "Miss Parkinson as well. Though...I don't imagine she'll be waking until late afternoon tomorrow; I've given her a sedative."

"Thank you, Benjamin," the blond said, standing as well and holding out his hand. The Healer took it and shook firmly, then pointed.

"In bed," he said. "Now."

Draco couldn't help but chuckle, but he moved, as quickly as he was able, to the second single bed in the room and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Watching for a moment, the older man pulled out his wand and lowered the flames of the fire, then headed out of the room. "Sleep well, Draco."

**-oOo-**

Harry spent a short time in the drawing room with everyone else that night, but when Andromeda left to take Teddy up to bed, Harry soon left too. After pausing on the landing outside Malfoy's room—for just a second, because he couldn't help himself—Harry continued on, stopping by to say good night to his godson and read him a quick story, then heading up to his own room, presumably to sleep.

But after showering, dressing for bed, and settling _into_ his bed, Harry had a hard time actually falling asleep...because all he seemed able to do was think about the blond man two floors down. In the years since the war—and subsequent trials—Harry'd had little time to think about Draco Malfoy. But now that he was here, in Harry's house, the dark-haired man couldn't seem to get him out of his head.

"Damn it!" he cursed as he rolled over in bed, covering his head with a pillow and squeezing his eyes closed. The _last_ thing he needed now was to be distracted by the gray-eyed git with whom he'd gone to school. "Fucking Malfoy!"

After what seemed like hours, Harry _finally_ drifted off—only to dream about the other man.

Not that he completely remembered the dream come morning. In fact, he hardly remembered it at all. When he first opened his eyes there was a glimmer of memory, but then, with a frown, Harry got up and shuffled to the toilet to relieve himself, then threw on some clothes and headed down to the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Harry Potter's Home for the Wayward Witch or Wizard...and the occasional Muggle who's in the know!**

**-oOo-**

Okay, I'm going to work, but I thought I'd post the next bit first. I'd like to see some action while I'm gone. *hopes people are reading and enjoying*

**-oOo-**

**Chapter Three**

**-oOo-**

The next day seemed to pass quickly. Draco woke late, after sleeping soundly, then was visited by the healer again—and declared healthy—then ate the breakfast that sat on his bedside table under a warming charm. He'd eaten while the healer gave Pansy a quick once over, then got up and showered once the older man had left. After that, he'd gotten back into bed and, surprisingly, drifted back to sleep again...waking late in the afternoon when he heard Pansy's frightened voice.

"_Draco_?" she whined fearfully from her bed.

"I'm here, Pans," he said, instantly rolling from his bed and going to her. Sitting on her bed, he lay down and pulled his friend into his arms.

"I t-thought I w-was alone," she said, shivering though the room was toasty warm and flickering with fire light. The curtains were drawn, so it was fairly dark, hence her lack of ability to see—not to mention the fact that she _wouldn't_ know where she was since she'd never _been_ there before.

Draco shook his head. "No, you're not alone," he said, squeezing her, then kissing her forehead reassuringly. "I'm _soooo_ sorry, Pansy. I never should have let you go off like that."

Heaving a shuddering sob, Pansy clung to Draco and he let her cry until she didn't seem to have any more tears left to shed...until her grip loosened and she shifted to snuggle into him. He rolled then, to his back, pulling her so that her head rested on his chest.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "Think so, but...where _are_ we?"

Draco snorted. "You are _never_ going to believe this, but..." He hesitated, knowing that Pansy was somewhat afraid of the man whose house they were in. "We're...ahh...at _Potter's_ house."

Gasping, Pansy pushed herself up and stared down at her blond friend. "What the _fuck_ are we doing at Potter's?" she asked as she rolled away from Draco and started to get out of bed—only to instantly find herself crumpling to the ground...and Draco kneeling beside her, lifting her up and placing her back on the bed.

"Easy, Pans, you've been through a lot," he said to her. "Healer Ellsworth said—"

Slapping his hands away, Pansy seemed to realize her state of undress. "Where are my clothes?" she quickly asked, folding her arms over her flannel-covered chest. "Merlin, Draco, what old lady's pyjamas am I wearing and...where the _fuck_ are my clothes?!" she burst, glancing around. The room was barely lit, with only a fire burning for light. "You know I only have that one set of barely passable robes, Draco." She was whinging. She knew it, but..._what_ was he thinking?!

Draco chuckled. "Relax, Pans," he said, taking her shoulders and easing her back into the inviting bed. "You need to rest. The healer said—"

"_Healer_?!" she burst, her eyes wide as she stared up at her friend from her back.

The blond nodded as he tried to smooth the covers over his friend. "Yes. Potter has a healer living in his house and the man came in and took a look at you. Healed you all up apparently, but he said you were to rest today. That you'd be weak until you got some sleep and a few good meals in you."

"Potter's living with a healer? So...he's gay then?" Pansy asked, a confused look on her face.

Draco laughed quietly. Leave it to Pansy to only mention what she wanted to talk about. "No. I mean...well, I don't know whether he's gay or not, but...no, Potter's not living with the healer. The house is Potter's and he seems to take in those in need. Are you _at all_ surprised?"

Closing her eyes, Pansy shook her head, then pinched the bridge of her turned up nose and looked at her friend. "Not really."

"Anyway, the healer and his wife and children live here," Draco went on. "Along with several others, including Theo."

Pansy's eyes flashed. "Theo!" she burst. "Theo's staying here?"

Draco nodded.

"At Potter's house?"

"Yeah. Like mine, his father's in Azkaban and all his family's possessions were confiscated after the war. And, as you know, his mother is dead."

Pansy nodded. "What about his aunt?"

Draco shrugged. "You know she was a supporter of...the Dark L-lord," the blond stammered. "She didn't get sent to prison, because the Ministry never found anything on her, but...well, you know Theo never liked her."

"I didn't know that, actually," she said. "I hardly knew Theo, Draco. He was such a..._loner_."

"More like private. And that's because he wanted _nothing_ to do with anyone who _might_ be involved with..." Draco let his words trail off, because he knew that Pansy understood.

"So, why'd you bring me _here_, Draco?" the dark-haired young woman whined, tears in her eyes. "Of all places."

"We needed help and I couldn't think of anywhere else to go," he explained, tears filling his own eyes. "I knew we'd be turned away at St. Mungos and...you needed help. Potter let us in with almost no question and we've been helped."

"Even though he hates me?"

"I have been kindly informed by my very own aunt that Potter doesn't hate _anyone_."

"Your _aunt_?" Pansy queried fearfully, looking ready to bolt.

"Not the dead one...obviously. Mother has another sister and apparently she's been residing with Potter. She and her grandson, actually...who _also_ happens to be Potter's _godson_...live here too. It's all about bit confusing."

Pansy snorted. "So, _your_ cousin is _Potter's_ godson?"

Draco nodded. "My cousin's son, yes...but evidently so."

"It's like you two are related. You and Potter, I mean."

The blond scoffed. "No, it's really not."

Pansy started to laugh, but when there was a knocking on the door, she shrunk back into the bed.

"Come in," Draco called out—then smiled when Beth entered the room.

"Lunch's ready. I didn't think either of you would be up to coming down to the table, so...I brought it up," the tray-carrying woman said. "How are you both feeling this afternoon?"

"I'm well, Beth, thank you," said Draco.

"Excellent," she said with a smile, then looked at the blond's cowering friend. "Pansy?"

Pansy hardly moved. "I'm...ahh...fine. I think."

"Good. I'm Beth, by the way. My husband is the healer who examined and healed you. He says you're going to be fine. I—"

"_Mummy_?" came a voice from the doorway, causing them all to turn and look. "Sissy's being mean."

"I am not!" another child protested.

"Yes. You _are_," a third child insisted. It was Teddy. "Cousin Draco, would you come read to us?"

"_Teddy_! I told you not to disturb Draco and his friend!" a woman's voice from the hallway snapped—then she appeared behind the squabbling children.

"I wasn't disturbing them, Grandma," the boy protested, looking up at his grandmother. "_Honest_, I wasn't...was I, Cousin Draco?" he asked, turning to look at the blond man, his turquoise hair instantly turning platinum blond.

Draco just frowned—as did Pansy—but didn't say anything, so the boy continued.

"I was just supporting Robbie," the boy went on, looking back at the older woman, "because Becca was being mean to him again."

"I was _not_ mean," the girl argued tearfully. "They were leaving me out..._again_."

"Teddy, you can see your cousin later. Right now he and his friend need to rest, so I want you three to clear out and get along," Andromeda Tonks said sternly. "And, if anyone is excluded, then the _three_ of you will be separated for the remainder of the day...and throughout tomorrow, if I see fit."

The three children groaned, but nodded, knowing that the older woman meant business.

"Now, go on," she said, making a shooing motion, then pointing toward the stairwell.

Pouting, the children marched out.

"Sorry about that, dear," Andromeda said to her nephew.

Beth sighed. "Thank you, Andromeda," she said before looking back at their houseguests. "The three of them together can sometimes be a bit much. My apologies."

Draco shrugged.

Coming into the room, Draco's aunt looked at his friend. "How are you doing, dear?"

"I think I'm fine, thank you," Pansy said quietly—nervously.

"Oh good," Andromeda said with a kind smile. "Maybe tomorrow you'll feel up to joining the house for a meal or two."

Pansy nodded, but she didn't feel too sure about joining anyone—especially Potter—tomorrow or anytime soon. "Maybe," she said quietly.

Andromeda continued to smile. "It's up to you, dear, but...we don't bite. I promise you that. You can check with Draco; he dined with us last night."

Pansy's eyes went to her friend and he nodded. "There was a little snarking, but no biting, I assure you."

Pansy snorted, then looked at the two women. "I think I'd like to bathe, if...if that's all right."

Beth nodded. "Certainly. But I don't think you should do so alone. I'm a nurse, so I would be happy to assist you."

Pansy frowned, then glanced at Draco.

"Medi-witch," he translated, not knowing how to explain—or if he should.

Nodding, Pansy looked back at he woman. "Yes, if you don't mind, I'd really like that. I already tried to get up once and...fell over," she admitted—then blushed fiercely.

Beth looked worried. "I'll let Benji know when he gets home tonight, but...no more getting out of bed without assistance, young lady."

Pansy nodded again, squirming a bit because she suddenly realized she needed to use the toilet.

"I'll go get some towels and be right back," Beth said, then turned and left, taking Andromeda with her.

"There's more going on here, isn't there, Draco?" Pansy asked as soon as the women had closed the door again.

"What _ever_ do you mean?" he asked, trying to keep his face impassive.

"_Nurse_? What the fuck is _that_?"

Draco chuckled. "I'm not sure you'd really like to know."

Pansy pursed her lips and glared.

"All right, but remember...you asked for the information."

She just looked up at him expectantly.

"Beth is a nurse, which is...theMuggleequivalenttoaMediwitch," he said quickly. "Or something like that. I think. I'm not one hundred percent sure though."

"What was that? Did I hear _Muggle_ in there?" she asked with a frown.

Biting his lip, Draco nodded. "Yes. As it turns out, there are a _few_ Muggles living in the house."

"_What_?" the prone woman hissed.

"Do I really need to repeat myself?"

Her eyes huge, Pansy shook her head. "No. What I meant was... _Why_?

Draco sighed. "I have _no_ idea," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I know the reasons I was given and...they do seem to make sense, but..._Merlin_, Pansy, _nothing_ really makes sense anymore."

As if he knew she needed him, Draco lay down beside his friend again and held her—until Beth returned to help her into the tub. Draco ended up carrying her into the bathroom, then leaving the two women alone.

**-oOo-**

After her bath—and a long nap—Pansy felt a hundred and ten percent better. Well, maybe not _perfect_, but close. Better than she had in a while, at least. But she was still nervous when Draco suggested they head down to the dining room to have some supper.

"W-with e-everyone," she stammered. "I don't know, Draco."

"I'll carry you down the stairs," he offered, smiling encouragingly. "The food is good and you could use a decent meal."

"Yes, I could, but... Couldn't we just...you know, eat up here?" she asked, her tone somewhat begging. "I'm not really feeling up to seeing everyone just yet."

"Hmm."

"What..._hmm_?" she queried, confused. And annoyed.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess. We can eat here. I sort of figured that would be your preference, so earlier I asked my aunt to send something up."

Sighing her relief, Pansy smiled.

But her smile didn't last long, because there was a tapping on the door. Pansy cringed and, obviously assuming it was his aunt, Draco called out. "Come in."

But it wasn't Andromeda. Instead, it was none other than Harry Potter.

"I have your supper," he said. He didn't smile at them, but neither did he look unpleasant. In fact, Potter looked almost cheerfully, as if it didn't bother him at all that they were in his home and that he was bringing them their dinner—that he was _serving_ them. "Everything all right?" their host asked.

Tentatively, Pansy nodded, then glanced at Draco.

"Yes, Potter...we're fine," said Draco as he lowered himself to sit beside his friend. Pansy instantly grabbed his hand and watched as he looked up at the dark-haired man. "I was trying to convince Pansy to come down, but she doesn't feel up to it."

Pansy glared at the blond. "Shut it, Draco!" she growled—then glared some more when he reached up and tweaked her nose.

This made the dark-haired man snicker, which caused Pansy to turn her glare on him. "What's so fucking funny, Potter?! she snarled.

"Oh. Um. Nothing," the man said. But he was clearly still amused. Then, turning his eyes on the tray in his hands, he said. "Um. _Food_," he said, nodding down at the tray he held, then stepping forward and handing it to Draco. "I'm going down to eat now, but I wanted to bring this up first."

"Where's my aunt?" Draco asked.

"Teddy was having a bit of a meltdown," Potter responded. "She had to deal with that. So...ahh...there'll be dessert and drinks in the drawing room after the meal. Around seven. It's our usual evening routine. You two are welcome to join us...if you want."

Pansy frowned and looked at Draco...and Draco just looked at the dark-haired man standing in front of them.

Potter shrugged. "Or not," he said, looking a touch irritated. "Anyway, that's where we'll all be...just in case either or both of you are interested. Looks like you're not though." And then he was gone.

**-oOo-**

"I didn't mean to be rude, Draco," Pansy whined, yawning.

Draco shrugged. Pansy had been fairly quiet while they were eating, but now she just looked tired. "You were fine, Pans. Potter's a git any way you look at it."

"No. He was fine." Yawn. "I was rude. It's just...hard _not_ to be with him."

Draco chuckled. Sitting down on the side of his friend's bed, he ran his fingers across her forehead and pushed a few stands of hair off her face.

"I was rude and he's been nothing but nice to us," she said tearfully. "_Us_, Draco...his schoolhouse rivals."

Using his thumb, Draco caught a tear as it rolled down Pansy's cheek, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You need sleep, Pansy. Everything will look better tomorrow."

She nodded. With her eyes closed, she said, "You're a liar, but..." Yawn. "I'm too sleepy to argue."

"That's a first," he said teasingly.

She opened her eyes and glared. Well, she tried to.

"Go to sleep, love," he said, smoothing her dark hair back. Then, watching her eyes droop, Draco adjusted her blankets and slowly got up. He stared down at her for a minute or two—waiting for her breathing to even out—then frowned. He wasn't ready for sleep himself, but..._what to do_? Then, spotting a bookcase, he went to see what Potter had there. A quick once-over proved there to be nothing interesting, but Draco knew there was no way he was going to fall asleep just yet...and so he headed for the door. Tentatively opening it and stepping out, the blond sighed and made his way to the drawing room—to face those who gathered there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Harry Potter's Home for the Wayward Witch or Wizard...and the occasional Muggle who's in the know!**

**-oOo-**

I was _going to_ wait until midnight (my time) to post this—because that's what I like to do (or used to, apparently things have changed)—but...here's the next bit (about an hour and half early). Hope you like! Thanks for reading. *grin*

**-oOo-**

**Chapter Four**

**-oOo-**

Harry'd been in the drawing room for thirty minutes or so when Malfoy sauntered in. Well, he didn't _saunter_ in so much as...slink in, Harry decided as he tried to watch the blond man—surreptitiously, of course—come in and glance around. Malfoy was immediately noticed and acknowledged by his own aunt and cousin. Andromeda and Teddy went straight over to him, Andromeda offering him a drink and/or some dessert and Teddy wanting to be picked up. Malfoy nodded politely to his aunt, but stared down at his cousin as if the boy were asking him to eat slugs. Seeing her nephew's look of discomfiture, Andromeda directed her grandson to the dessert table. For a second, Teddy pouted—he must really want his cousin to pick him up, Harry thought—then the boy grinned, happy to be allowed another cookie.

Watching all this, Harry hid a smile and decided that Malfoy looked nervous. In days of old, he would have thought the blond was up to something, but...what could he _possibly_ be up to now?

Well, there were any number of things he _could_ be up to, but Harry didn't really think he was. The state in which Malfoy and Parkinson had arrived the day before left no doubt in his mind that they were desperate. Of course, he'd have to watch the way he spoke to the other man, because he was _sure_ that Malfoy wouldn't like being referred to as "desperate." But then, who would, really?

"Harry. Be a dear and take this glass of wine over to Draco," Andromeda said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts as she handed him a filled glass.

"W-what?"

"Oh, come now, dear, be a good host," she said, managing to make her tone even, even though Harry felt like there was a reprimand in her words. She smiled warmly at him. "And here's one for you as well. You might need it." She chuckled.

Sighing, Harry took the second glass of wine and glanced over at Malfoy. "_Why_ is he here again?" he asked, taking a rather large sip of his beverage.

Andromeda laughed again. She clearly understood that he was _trying_ to be funny...otherwise she would have scolded him in earnest. "Now, now, Harry," she chided playfully, patting him lovingly on the shoulder. "This is a house for _any_ wayward witch or wizard. Your words, dear."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, taking another gulp from his glass. "I created the place. Remember?"

Andromeda just smiled. "I let Teddy have another cookie, to keep him out of Draco's hair, but that'll keep him up a bit longer...and make him ask for more stories at bedtime."

Harry shrugged. "That's fine. I'll read him a couple extra."

"You're a very good godfather, Harry," the older woman said. "Teddy and I are lucky to have you."

Harry blushed. "Thank you."

"Now, take that wine over to Draco...he looks thirsty. And be nice."

Harry snorted—but did as he was bid.

**-oOo-**

Draco eyed Potter as he spoke with his aunt; Andromeda and the dark-haired man were obviously close and, for some reason, this caused a twinge of..._something_...to curl in the blond's stomach. Andromeda had been more than kind to him—considering all she'd lost and _his_ family's part in the war—but Potter made him a touch anxious. He wasn't exactly polite—nor was he an arse, as Draco had expected—but his behavior was odd. It was just weird here.

After his aunt had walked off, leaving him standing there alone, Draco was joined by Theodore Nott, who was, strangely enough, rambling on about how wonderful it was living at _Harry's House_. Draco wasn't really listening even though he would like to know what Theo had been up to since Hogwarts. Theo had always been a bit of a loner—to use Pansy's description—and so the fact that he was talking—quite a bit, actually—was something Draco felt he should be interested in. And he was. But that would have to wait until later. Right now, he needed to get himself acclimated.

And then, without Draco realizing it, Potter appeared at his side.

"Your aunt wanted me to give you this," the dark-haired man said bluntly as he held out a glass of red wine.

Accepting the glass, Draco nodded. "Thank you, Potter," he said politely. "You didn't have to bring it over. I could have waited."

Potter snorted. "You don't know your aunt very well," he said, taking a sip of his own drink, then nodding at Draco's. "Andromeda pretty much ordered me to bring that over here."

Under normal circumstances, Draco might have sneered—what right did _Potter_ have to tell him who he did or didn't know?!—but the dark-haired man was right, he _didn't_ know his aunt well.

"I'd like to change that," he said quietly—honestly—his eyes following the woman who was now his mother's only living sister. She'd gotten busy talking to someone else, but every once in a while she glanced over at him and smiled. She looked _so_ much like his aunt Bella and yet, so _very_ different. It was scary and reassuring at the same time.

"Do you guys do this every night?" he asked after a few moments, his eyes going back to the man standing in front of him. "It's almost like a party in here."

Potter shrugged, his lips quirking slightly. "Not _every_ night. But a lot of them, I guess. Sometimes the Knight Bus drops people off late, so someone has to be up to let them in. It's not usually me, though...I'm an early riser, so I tend to try to get myself to bed early. The operative word being _try_," he said, not elaborating further.

Draco's eyes widened. "I didn't take you for a morning person, Potter."

The dark-haired man's green eyes flashed, then narrowed. "You don't know _anything_ about me, _Malfoy_, now _do_ you?" he snapped, his face turning slightly red with obvious anger. Then he frowned and sighed. "I...um. That was rude. Sorry."

Draco shrugged.

"So...um...if you'll excuse me, I really should go over and prevent Teddy from eating any more dessert," said Potter. "He's already had too many sweets and that's not good for bedtime."

Draco nodded and watched him go, then realized he was standing there alone. At some point while he and Potter had been conversing, Theo had silently excused himself. Looking around, Draco found his former dorm mate talking to George Weasley. It seemed like an odd..._friendship_? Draco's eyes then went to his young cousin. Potter practically had to peel the boy off the cookies. Or rather, he had to peel the cookies out of Teddy's small hands. He had to be holding at least two or three of them in each hand—and he wasn't _at all_ pleased that they were being taken away. By the look on the boy's face, it looked like there might be another meltdown in the works.

But then the dark-haired man knelt down and spoke quietly—and Teddy was capable of listening, apparently; he nodded, glanced over at _him_, then wiped the tears off his face and nodded again. And then Potter picked the boy up and headed back in Draco's direction.

"Malfoy," he said, "I'm going to take Teddy up and get him ready for bed. He's asked if you'd like to join us for story time."

Draco almost choked on his wine. He was quite surprised. He glanced at the child in Potter's arms.

"Pwease, Cousin Draco," Teddy begged, sniffling. "Tuck me in?"

"I...ahh... Well, how could I say no to _that_ face," Draco asked, nodding. "Sure, Teddy."

Teddy smiled and clapped his hands, his hair instantly morphing from blue to platinum blond.

"Give us like twenty or so minutes though," Potter said a bit stiffly, as if he didn't really want Draco to join them for story time—which he probably didn't. "He needs a bath," he continued, "and sometimes that gets messy."

Teddy groaned. "No bath. I _hate_ bath time."

Potter rolled his eyes. "You say that every night, but you _love_ your baths."

"Do not," Teddy argued.

"Yes. You do!" the dark-haired man said as he shifted the boy and tossed him over his shoulder, effectively shutting the kid up—well, except for the giggles. "Twenty minutes, Malfoy. Fourth floor, on the left."

Draco nodded; it would give him time to finish his wine...and maybe down another one. And check on Pansy. "Sure, Potter," he said as he watched the other man walk off, Teddy hanging upside down over his shoulder, his now-black hair bouncing as he giggled.

**-oOo-**

"You are absolutely unbelievable, Tedster!" Harry teased as he carried the towel-clad, yet still dripping, boy from the bathroom and tossed him on the bed. "Pyjamas. Now."

Teddy giggled, but struggled himself, still wet, into his sleeping clothes, then laughed some more when Harry picked up his towel and started rubbing his soaking wet hair dry.

"Haar-_ree_," the boy called out from under the towel, "dry with magic."

"What was that?" Harry asked while vigorously towel-drying his godson's once again blue hair. "You're mumbling, Teddy, I can't understand you."

Teddy tittered. "Not mum-bling," he protested. "I said mag-gick!"

Harry chuckled. "Magic, you say?"

"Yes!"

"What do you _say_?" Harry asked, halting his hands and tossing the towel aside.

"_Pwease_."

Harry nodded. "All right."

Pulling out his wand, he aimed it and said, "_Evanesco_."

Teddy clapped his hands. "Thank you, Harry."

"Yeah, you're welcome, Champ, but...look at what you did to me. You obliterated me. I'm _soaked_."

Teddy did his best to put on an innocent look. "You're _wet_, Harry. Don't know how _that_ happened."

"You _are_ a mess, Potter," a blond someone said from the doorway.

Both Harry and Teddy turned and looked at their intruder. Draco Malfoy was standing there leaning against the doorframe.

"_Draco_!" Teddy squealed, launching himself across the room and at his cousin—who could do nothing, but gather the boy up and hold him.

"Okay then. I'll go change. In bed, Runt," Harry said, pointing as he walked toward his bathroom.

**-oOo-**

When Harry came out of his bathroom, he found Teddy tucked in and Malfoy lying, stretched out, on top of the covers. For a moment he just stood there staring at the scene. They were chatting, as if they had always known one another, and they looked...happy. Harry smiled. He could not help himself. It was nice to see Teddy happy—even if it _was_ Malfoy who'd put the smile on his face.

And that's when they looked up—and saw Harry grinning like a loon.

"Looking better, Potter," the blond said—then smirked. "Well...dry, at least."

His smile fading, Harry felt...self-conscious. Why was it that, with just a few words, Malfoy could reduce him to feeling things he didn't want to feel? Glaring, he opened his mouth to say something scathing—something he knew he probably shouldn't—but was cut off by Teddy. _Thank _Merlin_ for small favors...that come in the form of young godsons_, Harry thought as he took a few steps forward.

"Come on, Harry. Crawl in," the boy said as he sat up, pushed the blankets back, and patted the mattress beside him.

Harry smiled at Teddy and continued forward slowly—and pointedly ignored the blond man on his bed. He liked reading to the boy each night before bed and wasn't going to let Malfoy ruin it. He _wasn't_!

"Tonight I want to hear the one about Jack and the Beanstalk first," Teddy requested.

Harry smiled. "All right," he said. Picking up a thick children's book off a shelf as he made his way to the bed, Harry flipped through it and, locating the correct story, plopped himself down on the bed and got comfortable. "Ready Freddy?"

Teddy giggled. "It's _Te_ddy."

"That's what I said," Harry said, straight-faced.

Teddy shook his head. "No, uh-uh. You called me Freddy."

Harry frowned. "I don't think so," he said, looking confused.

"Har-_ree_!"

Then, poking his godson in the belly, Harry grinned and said, "Are we going to read this story or not? Or did you just want to go to sleep."

"No to sleep and yes to story," replied Teddy simply. "And...you _did_ say Freddy. I hearded you."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Tedicus."

Teddy snorted. "You're so _silly_, Harry."

Harry smiled, then noticed Malfoy watching them and cleared his throat. "Story?" he said to Teddy, though his eyes were still locked on the blond man's.

Nodding, Teddy turned his head and said, "You should get under the blankets too, Cousin Draco. Harry keeps his room sort of cold at night. He says he sleeps better this way."

"Hmm. Funny that, so do I," Malfoy said, never taking his eyes off Harry's. "What do you think, Potter? Should I get into your bed?"

Harry immediately blushed—which caused the blond's eyes to twinkle—then he took a deep breath and bucked up some of Gryffindor's renowned courage. "Make yourself comfortable, Malfoy," he said challengingly.

For a second Malfoy just stared at him, his eyes narrowed—then the gray-eyed man gave a quick nod and moved to get into Harry's bed.

**-oOo-**

Please point out glaring errors. Well, okay, minor typos too...as I absolutely HATE them! Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

**Harry Potter's Home for the Wayward Witch or Wizard...and the occasional Muggle who's in the know!**

**-oOo-**

Here's the next bit...

**-oOo-**

**Chapter Five**

**-oOo-**

_Long ago, there lived a poor woman and her son  
named Teddy_—

"It's _Jack_, Harry," Teddy protested, giggling. "_Jack_ and the Beanstalk, not _me_ and the Beanstalk."

Placing his finger at his place on the book, Harry glanced at his godson and frowned. "Are you _sure_?"

Teddy nodded vigorously. "Yes."

"Hmm. All right. If you're sure."

"I'm sure," the boy said, then turned his head and looked at his cousin. "Harry always thinks I'm part of the fairytales, but I'm not."

"Of course you're not," Draco said, trying to reassure the boy, then looking to Harry to continue.

_Long ago, there lived a poor woman and her son  
named Jack. They had no money and no food, so the  
woman decided that they must sell their milking cow._

_The woman asked Jack to take the cow into town  
and offer her for sale. On the road into town, Jack met  
a strange man who asked to buy the cow._

"_I will give you five magic beans for—_

"Wait," Draco interrupted. "_Magic_ beans?"

"Yes, Malfoy, Muggles have stories about magic too," Harry snapped.

"Hmm."

"They're not _really_ magic, Cousin Draco," Teddy added. "The man's lying to Jack." He then quickly turned and winked at Harry—who smiled.

Draco nodded. "Ahh. I see."

"Can I continue, Malfoy?" Harry asked, irritated—and amused at the same time.

"You may certainly try, Potter," drawled the gray-eyed man. "By all means."

Harry huffed and looked back at the book.

"_I will give you five magic beans for your cow," he  
said to Jack. "Do you know how many that is?"_

"_Two for each of my hands and one in my mouth!"  
answered Jack._

"_Right!" said the strange man. "Here are the beans."  
So Jack traded the cow for the five magic beans._

Draco was frowning. "Why would he do that...trade his cow, their _only_ source of income, for five lousy beans...that aren't really magic?"

Harry sighed. "He doesn't know that, Malfoy," he said, exasperatedly.

"Oh. Well, I think he's an idiot," the blond complained—then waved his hand. "Please continue though. This is mildly interesting."

Harry rolled his eyes.

_When Jack returned home, he proudly told his mother  
of the good trade he had made._

"_You foolish boy!" she said, "now we will go hungry!"  
And she threw the beans out the window, because she did  
not believe they were magic. She sent Jack to bed without  
any supper, even though there was nothing to eat anyway._

_The next morning, Jack awoke to find a large beanstalk  
growing from the spot where the beans had fallen. It was  
so tall that it grew all the way to the sky!_

"Hold on!" Malfoy cut in again. "So...the beans _are_ magic?"

Teddy giggled.

"I thought you said the man lied."

"I...um...might have fibbed," Teddy admitted.

Draco snorted. "Sneaky little shi..." He let his word trail off. "I...um...I bet you're sorted into Slytherin."

Teddy shook his head. "No. Uh-uh. I'm going to be in Hufflepuff like my mum," he said adamantly. "Or maybe Gryffindor like my dad. But _not_ Ravenclaw or Slytherin."

Harry smirked, but said, "It doesn't matter which House you're sorted into, Little Man, they're all very respectable in their own ways."

Draco looked surprised at Harry's words, but Teddy nodded. "I know. That's what you and grandma always say.

"My bet's still on Hufflepuff for you though," Harry added.

Teddy grinned and nodded. "I like yellow!" he burst, his blue hair shifting to yellow, if only for a moment. "And I have badger jammies. _See_ Draco?" Teddy sat up then, to display his pyjamas. "Harry founded them when he was on holiday last summer."

Draco looked at his cousin's sleeping attire and nodded. "I see," he said. "Very...nice." His gaze then went to the other man. "Carry on, Potter."

"Right," Harry said. "Where was I? Oh."

_Jack climbed the beanstalk until he was high in the sky,  
even higher than the clouds. And there before him he saw  
a great castle._

_Jack walked up to the castle. There in the doorway  
stood the biggest woman he had ever seen!_

"_Please, Ma'am, I am very hungry. Could I come in  
and have something to eat?" asked Jack._

_The woman said that her husband, who was a giant,  
was coming home soon and would eat Jack for supper.  
But Jack asked again so nicely that the woman brought  
him inside and gave him some breakfast._

_No sooner had Jack finished eating than he heard the  
tramp, tramp, tramp of the giant's boots._

_Quickly, the woman hid Jack in the unlit oven._

_The giant filled the kitchen door and roared,_

**Fe-fi-fo-fum,  
I smell the blood of an Englishman!  
Be he live or be he dead,  
I'll grind his bones to make my bread!**

Harry roared this, just as the giant would have, making Teddy clap his hands and giggle some more.

"He's going to _eat_ the boy?" Draco asked. "Muggles have a sick sense of humor."

This made Harry laugh. "And how is this Muggle fairytale any different from the wizarding stories your mother told you?"

Draco frowned. "Good point. Still."

"It's just a story, Draco," said Teddy. "Keep reading, Harry."

"_You only smell the stew I have cooked,"  
setting a huge bowl in front of him._

_After the giant had eaten his fill, he called for his gold.  
His wife brought bags of gold coins. The giant counted  
them until he grew sleepy. Soon he began to snore._

_Jack slipped out of the dark oven and grabbed one of  
the bags of gold. Then he ran as fast as he could to the  
beanstalk and climbed down._

"What a bloody little _thief_!" the blond man growled, incensed. "How _dare_ that little shite take what belongs to another."

Teddy's eyes widened and Harry frowned. "Nice language, Malfoy."

"Jack and his mum are hungry, Cousin Draco," Teddy put in. "I have no idea what it's like to be hungry, but...I 'magine it's not fun."

Draco had the decency to...look embarrassed. "My apologies, Teddy," he said sincerely. "I've never been...ahh...never mind." He paused—because he was going to say that he'd never been hungry either, but that wasn't exactly true—and looked at Harry. "It's still not right."

"We've both seen and done worse, Malfoy," Harry reminded him—causing the blond to clench his teeth. "Shall I continue?"

Draco gave a clipped nod.

_Jack's mother was happy to have him home, and the  
gold bought them food for many months. But as soon as  
the coins were spent, Jack disguised himself and climbed the  
beanstalk past the clouds. Once again he asked the giant's  
wife to let him into the castle._

_The woman did not recognize Jack in his disguise.  
But she did not want to let him in. She told Jack that the  
last boy she had let in for food had stolen a bag of her  
husband's gold._

_But Jack asked so nicely for a drink that she brought  
him to the kitchen and gave him a thimble of water._

_No sooner had Jack finished the water than he heard  
the tramping of giant boots and ran to hide in the oven.  
The giant _(Harry)_ roared,_

**Fe-fi-fo-fum,  
I smell the blood of an Englishman!  
Be he live or be he dead,  
I'll grind his bones to make my bread!**

_His wife said, "You only smell the delicious soup I have  
cooked for you." Then she fed the giant his supper._

_After the giant had eaten, he told his wife to bring his  
magic hen._

"_Lay an egg!" commanded the giant. The hen laid a  
perfect golden egg. Soon the giant fell asleep, and Jack  
crept out from his hiding place. He grabbed the hen and  
did not stop running until he was safely home._

Draco snorted, but didn't say anything—probably because Harry glared at him.

_Each day the hen laid another golden egg. Jack and his  
mother were able to sell the eggs to buy plenty of food.  
Jack's mother was very happy._

_But Jack still longed for adventure. So he climbed up  
the beanstalk once more and tiptoed into the giant's castle  
He ran into the kitchen and hid behind a giant broom._

_Soon the giant and his wife came in. The giant looked  
around the kitchen and cried,_

**Fe-fi-fo-fum,  
I smell the blood of an...**

_His wife quickly ran to look in the oven, but no one  
was there._

_The giant sat down in his chair with a thump that  
rattled the kichen floor and called for his wife to bring  
him his magic harp. Jack watched as a lovely golden harp  
was set before the giant._

_When the giant roared, "Sing!" the harp came to life  
and played a beautiful song all by itself. It even sang along  
with its music in a soft, sweet voice. The giant ate his  
supper while the harp played and sang. When the giant  
was full, the harp's music lulled him to sleep._

"Here we go again," Draco interjected, guessing what was going to happen next.

Hiding a smile, Harry continued to read.

_When the giant was snoring loudly and was certainly  
asleep, Jack crept from his hiding place behind the broom  
He picked up the golden harp and ran away with it._

_The magic harp called out, "Help, master!"_

_This woke the sleeping giant. When he realized that  
his prized harp was being stolen, the giant leaped up with  
a mighty roar of rage and grabbed for Jack with one of his  
huge hands._

_Jack jumped off the table and ran just as fast as his  
legs would carry him. He could hear the tramp, tramp,  
tramp of the giant's boots behind him, and that made him  
run faster than he had ever run before!_

_When Jack reached the beanstalk, he climbed all the  
way down to the ground with the magic harp clutched  
tightly in one arm._

_As soon as Jack reached the ground, he grabbed an ax  
and with one sharp blow chopped down the huge beanstalk.  
Down it crashed, and with it crashed the giant._

_That was the end of the magic beanstalk and the end  
of the giant!_

_As for Jack and his mother, they lived happily ever after  
with the wonderful hen and the magical golden harp._ 1.

"And...what about the giant's wife?" Draco asked, appalled. "That was just...a _horrible_ story, Potter. First, the 'hero' in the story," he continued on, making air quotes, "gains sympathy from the wife, then hides in her house from her husband. Then he proceeds to rob them blind. The little prat steals a bag of gold, then his golden egg laying hen, and then his golden harp! And finally, Jack is responsible for the death of the giant. How can you read such rubbish to my cousin?!"

For a second, Harry just stared—then he shrugged. "It's just a story, Malfoy. Most of the fairytales in this book are pretty edgy. It's just the way they are. Besides, children seem to understand that they're just stories.

Draco frowned. "I don't like it."

"Well then, you're quite welcome to avoid story time if it bothers you so much, Malfoy," Harry offered.

This caused Teddy to frown, because _he'd_ enjoyed having his cousin there.

"Or...um...have a story time of your own, if you'd rather," Harry adjusted, because he saw his godson's upset look. "You and Teddy could get together in your room if you wish to read something different to him."

Teddy continued to frown. He didn't want to lose his cuddles with Harry either.

And Draco—also aware of the boy's growing panic—met Harry's green gaze. "We could do that, Teddy, but...I'm sure I could _learn_ to enjoy your stories. I've just never heard them before and so that was rather shocking."

Teddy grinned at his cousin, then at his godfather. "Tell me a story about my parents, Harry," he pleaded.

Harry smiled. "All right. I'll tell you about the first time I met each of them.

**-oOo-**

Teddy had given one last smile, then yawned as he closed his eyes drifted off to sleep. Watching the boy, Harry was surprised that he'd gotten away with reading just one story and telling two others—he'd expected it to be a five or more story night. Smiling, he reached out and pushed a strand of blue hair off Teddy's brow.

Harry was also surprised to find Malfoy sound asleep on the other side of Teddy. The blond man was lying on his right side, facing the center of the bed—and Harry and Teddy—holding Teddy's small hand. Or rather, Teddy was clutching at Malfoy's left hand. He'd _been_ holding it throughout their entire story time while Harry read/spoke to them. Malfoy's other hand was tucked up under the right side of his head, his platinum hair splayed over the pillow he was using—Harry's pillow—and his mouth was slightly open. Teddy's lips were parted a bit as well, making the cousins resemble each other. Harry thought the two of them looked cute.

Wait. _Cute_? Harry frowned.

Getting up, Harry went to the bathroom. He still needed to brush his teeth and, while up, he used the toilet, then headed back to his bed. He contemplated waking the blond man and sending him on his way, but...didn't have the heart to do it. He told himself that it was because he might wake Teddy and that he didn't want to do that, but... Instead, Harry adjusted the blankets over the other man and tucked him in—because the room, as Teddy had claimed, was rather chilly. Then he reached out and pushed another strand of hair off his godson's face; while Harry'd been in the bathroom, Teddy's hair had gone back to its natural state, sort of a light browny-blond—that was typical...though sometimes it shifted in his sleep when he dreamed.

After gazing down at his godson for a few moments, Harry smiled, then circled the bed to his side. He thought about sleeping on the sofa, which was on the other side of the room, then decided his bed was large enough to accommodate all three of them without it being any more awkward that it already was. Or so he hoped. Getting into his bed—it was _his_ bed, after all—Harry lay there staring at the other two occupants for quite some time. But then he yawned and rolled over and let slumber take him.

**-oOo-**

Shivering, Draco came to awareness and realized he was snuggled up against a warm body—a small one—but that the blankets had been pulled from his back, thus causing his own lack of warmth.

Opening his eyes and blinking a few times, the blond focused. It was somewhat light in the room he was in, so he could see fairly well—and he was surprised at what he saw. The warm body, which turned out to be his young cousin, was turned away from him, his small frame practically draped over Potter's _much_ larger one—Potter had grown quite a bit since they'd finished school—who lay there on his back sound asleep.

And then Draco realized his own arm was not only slung around the boy, but also over the dark-haired man. Quickly, Draco yanked his arm away and rolled to his back. Instantly, he felt colder than he already was. Carefully, so as not to awaken Potter or the boy, Draco pulled the blanket so that the cold air no longer touched his skin—then he closed his eyes again and tried to sleep.

But he couldn't. He couldn't fall back to sleep in Potter's bed.

Glancing over at the man, who was sleeping peacefully, Draco sighed. He could very easily get used to this.

Then he frowned. Wait. _What_? He could get used to waking up in _Potter's_ bed? Draco wanted to shudder...to be repulsed by his thoughts. This was his childhood enemy. Or..._something_. He wasn't sure 'enemy' was the correct word for whatever they'd been in their youth, but they certainly hadn't ever been cordial either. But whatever it was, Draco absolutely wasn't repulsed by the idea of Potter being the first thing he saw every morning when he woke up.

_Hmm_. This gave the blond a lot to think on.

And then he remembered Pansy—abused and injured...and alone in _their_ room—and felt horrible for getting carried away with fairytales and the like. He needed to get back to her. To _check_ on her at the very least. And so he got up, gingerly tucked the blankets around the sleeping boy, and walked out of Potter's room, closing the door as he went.

* * *

1. "**Jack and the Beanstalk**," adapted by Jane Jerrard, is an English fairy tale. The earliest known appearance in print is Benjamin Tabart's moralised version of 1807. "Felix Summerly" (Henry Cole) popularised it in _The Home Treasury_ (1842), and Joseph Jacobs rewrote it in _English Fairy Tales_ (1890). Jacobs' version is most commonly reprinted today and it is believed to be closer to the oral versions than Tabart's because it lacks the moralizing.

* * *

Please point out glaring errors. Well, okay, minor typos too...as I absolutely HATE them! Thanks!


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